


that journey of an aching, soothing feeling

by wickedtrue



Category: Mass Effect, Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Adventure, Awkward Flirting, Eventual Smut, F/M, Female Character In Command, Gen, Humor, Pre-Relationship, Slow Burn, Women in the Military, Xeno
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-10-24 01:00:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10730904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wickedtrue/pseuds/wickedtrue
Summary: “I need to go.”  Sara eventually stood up.  “But, thank you.  Again.  This has all been a shock.  Between Dad, Scott, and all this,” and she waved her hand at the Nexus around them.  “This helped.”“Any time,” Kandros easily agreed, and tried not to sound too eager.“And, you ah.  You seem pretty great yourself.  And your voice, it’s really--” she stopped.  Then flushed.  “Um.”  The flush extended down the side of her neck, and Kandros became a little concerned.  “Shit, why did I say that outloud,” she muttered to herself.“I mean,” she started then stopped again.  “You’re, ah.  You’re a great.  Militia guy.  And your voice is very, ah.  Soothing!  Yeah!”  She put a finger to her ear.  “What’s that SAM?  Oh, need me on the Ark?  Whoops, okay, gotta go!”  Ryder took off at a jog out of the militia office, turned the wrong way to go toward the tram, righted herself, and jogged even faster away.  All without making eye contact with Kandros again.Well.  That was...interesting.He wondered what she meant to say that wasn’t “soothing”.  Something worth investigating further.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This started out over in the kinkmeme as "soothing" for a request about Kandros/f!Ryder and voicekink about Ryder being attracted to Kandros' voice. AND THEN IT GOT 8K LONG and I hadn't even gotten to kissing yet. ;_;
> 
> Now it lives here, and I slowly update as everything gets finished and matches up with later parts. I hope y'all enjoy it!

Tiran Kandros was very much looking forward to an entire twenty-eight hour rotation off the clock.  He never had time off, as Kesh loved to point out during all hands meeting between the leadership staff.  Tann would sniff and say he was a trusted member of the Nexus staff.  Addison would keep her gaze over his shoulder and say something about about how she trusted him to take his required rest as needed, while also implying she didn’t trust any militarization of the Initiative nor Kandros himself.  Then, the topic would move on to concern about this supply chain disappearing or was this crew member trustworthy--

Yeah, he never got more than a shift or two off out of every dozen except for rest breaks.  Because he was “so trustworthy and efficient”, which made him scoff even in his own head.  He was useful to Tann, Addison found him less untrustworth than most and not likely to lead a new rebellion, and Kesh actually trusted him to keep her engineers safe.  Most of the remaining station staff seemed to agree.  It’s what he got for playing a hero:  escape one galaxy so he wouldn’t end up pigeon holed in the military; end up leader of of a new galaxy military force.  Excellent, good life choices.  Maybe he should have went pirate with his cousin.

He questioned why he was in charge some days:  he was efficient, but not the best there was.  There had to be someone better.  There were still more leads he wanted to chase down, crew on the station he still eyed.  Too many pieces of equipment and food disappeared still, long after people were exiled.  

He shook his head.

This was a day off.  No thoughts for detective work.  He promised himself.  And Kesh.  (She threatened him with a wrench if he didn’t.)  Read something not work related.  Or a vid.  Maybe go sit in hydroponics and stare at the plants.  He had be trapped on the station since his promotion months ago, which had not helped.  May be if he got away from both his desk and his living unit, even if it was under the false growing lamps, that would help--

“Kandros, we...ah.  We’ve got a problem,” Tann came over his private channel.  Without even a hello or a request to speak.  Moments like this, he understood the rest of the Nexus’ urge to shove the Salarian out an airlock.

Kandros growled, and he let his omnitool pick it up.  Let the director know that he had overstepped his bounds here.  “I’m off the clock.  I have both my sergeants on call.  They can fix whatever leaky faucet problem--”

“No, you don’t understand.  Kandros--”  Tann paused and swallowed.  

The turian paused.  Tann sounded frantic.  Exile frantic.  He stood quickly and started pulling from his weapons locker.  After the mutiny, he kept a stockpile of ammo and extra guns hidden in his own quarters.  

“Tell me,” as he typed in the code on his locker.  He dumped three extra ammo packs and his prefered cryo ammo out onto the bed.  

“Sensors are saying… an Ark.  They are saying we have an Ark.  About to dock.”

He dropped his shotgun.  He had never dropped a gun in his life.  Not even in bootcamp.  

“I’m going to need you to repeat that, Director. Because I thought you said--”

“An Ark.  We thought we caught it on long range scanners, but it couldn’t have been right.  Must of been more of the Scourge or dark matter.  No one paid it any mind.  Then, it was coming in.  It looks like it is trying to dock.  But it can’t be an Ark.”  Tann was almost babbling, which was not reassuring in the moment.  

Kandros picked up his shotgun again.  An Ark?  It had been over a year and half of  _ nothing _ .  Planets that were not salvageable for them to live on, not easily by any means.  The Scourge, the kett, and so much death.  Was it real?  

“Is it kett?”  He asked.  “Are we getting anything this could be some new kett tactic?”

“We’re not getting anything that makes it look like that.  There are no explosions, no attempts to board with violence.  Can’t be the Exiles.  Unless, Exiles found an Ark?  No, can’t be.  Has to be a false alarm.  But we’ve had to turn off so many systems to conserve energy, I only have limited information.”  Tann had himself under control again.  “All the information I have is that we have a large object, that could be an Ark, incoming toward Nexus, that does not seem to be on a collision course.  Seems to be docking.”  The director took in a breath then breathed out.  “I need you, as head of security, to look into this.  This is most likely a false alarm.  We can’t--”

“Yes.”  Kandros slammed his locker shut.  “On it.”  Then he stopped.  “Which Ark is it?  If is an Ark, which do they think it is?”

It was a long enough pause that he thought Tann had already hung up.

“It’s not real, Kandros,” Tann told him quietly.  Then the click of the line disconnecting.

He tried not to click his mandibles in annoyance.  This was not the time.  Tann was right:  they had shuttered all the long range sensors and broadcasters for any of the Arks.  They couldn’t tell what any of those ships were even if they were right next the hull.  The Nexus was barely floating at this point.  

As he double timed it into his armor, he didn’t let himself think about the fact it might be real.  They thought Eos was going to work out for months, even though it was a radioactive desert.  He tucked his service pistol into its normal place at his side, then a second into a hidden of compartment.  He could only hide so much walking around the Nexus without alarming the crew.  And it was best not to alarm the crew.

He hesitated then tapped out a call on his own private channel that the others couldn’t listen in on.  It blipped several times before Kesh picked up.

“This is your day off,” she greeted him.

“You would think.  You alone?”

There was a pause.  He heard her heavy footsteps then a door closed.  “Now I am.”

“How much do you know about maybe an alarm going off in one of the Ark docking bays?” he asked her as casually as possible.

He liked Kesh.  She kept the station running.  Tann was a racist:  he was a realist about that.  Tann also kept the station running in other ways (mostly in the ways that no one else wanted that job).  Kandros hated his job most days because that meant balancing these two realities.  

(Except if he had to pick one of them, he’d pick Kesh.  She kept the oxygen flowing, and he just plain liked her better.  Kesh for Director, if they ever advanced to voting.  Not that he really knew what that was:  they didn’t have that in his culture, but the humans and asari seemed to love it.)

There was a pause, typing, then Kesh sucked in a breath.  

“I’m looking into it,” Kandros promised her.  “Tann thinks it is a false alarm.”

“A false alarm?  A false--”  Kesh cut herself off before she could raise her voice.  “How?  Even though we don’t have long range sensors, this is-- how can this--?”

“That is why I’m telling you before I walk out the door.”  He almost laughed.  

Kesh thought it was real.  Which was terrifying because Kesh was normally right.  That meant-- he couldn’t think about it yet.

“Mind keeping an eye on the docking area while I walk down and take a look?” he asked.

“Don’t die,” she grumbled.  “I can stand you.  The rest of them.”  She grunted and hung up.

That was almost affectionate.  He was starting to think they might be friends.  

_ Well _ , he thought.   _ Let’s check out this “false alarm”, then. _


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> now with fixed chapter order!

The human pathfinder was a tiny creature of almost never ending energy.  She barely reached the top of his chest and spouted off one liners left and right.  She was making jokes at the repair crewman she managed to find in the docking bay when Kandros found her, and she hadn’t stopped since.  He wasn’t sure if this was a bug or a feature.

(She annoyed the hell out of Tann and Addison.  Seemed a feature.)

There was suddenly actual light in the Nexus again.  There was enough power to keep most of the ship mostly running.  They weren’t having to scavenge for batteries for armor lights for patrols.  Even though it was a human Ark, they still had some dexo food supplies on-board since there were some Turian crew on the Ark itself, and the plan had been that each Ark was to act as a resupply for the Nexus, just in case.  Thank the Spirits cargo planners had prepared for emergencies like this.

Well, not like this.  No one planned for this.  But some vague emergency that required all Arks to have a variety of food stuffs for all the Milky Way species.

Kandros glanced up as the pathfinder, Ryder, bound across Operations from one director to another.  She stopped in front of his Security Center and actually scrunched up her human nose at him and made a face as if she had eaten something foul.

“Are they always like that?”  She actually asked him out loud. Out in the open of the entire Operations area.  

He quickly smothered a laugh into his talons.  That will not do.

“Them?” he flicked a foreclaw at two of his militia, gleefully bickering about who would fight the engineers over the galactic girl scout cookies discovered in the Hyperion’s stores.  “Can’t help themselves.  You’ve given us something to be hopeful about.  I’m ready to fight someone over the dehydrated jaffa fruit myself.”

“That’s not--”

He gripped her shoulder in one claw and pulled her about so he could hide her in his little corner of the Operations area.  It wasn’t exactly a private office; there wasn’t a door.  But at least he could push her into a seat and try to lower her voice.

“I know,” he told her with a quiet laugh.  “And as amusing as I find that, it might be best not to say that where Tann and Addison can hear you.  You have to make them work for you in some way.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose and looked down.  Before she looked up at him again with a hard expression.  He had gotten fairly good at reading human expressions after a year on the Nexus.  Some humans were hard to read.  Ryder didn’t bother to have a poker face.    “How do you manage it?”

He clacked his mandibles against his jaws, the turian equivalent of a shrug.  “Show results.  The best I can with what little resources we have left.  It’s one of the few things they understand.”  He pulled another chair in and sat himself.  He bent himself close, balancing his elbows on his thighs, and put his head close to hers.  “The last year has been hell.  I’m sure that has been drummed into you by now.  Tann and Addison, they aren’t horrible people.  Not the leaders we need,” he admitted.  “But this situation, I don’t know who could be.  I don’t want their jobs.  I don’t want my job, most days.”

Ryder let out an exhausted laugh.  “Man.  I can relate.  And I just woke up.”

That wouldn’t do.  Their only pathfinder exhausted and defeated already?  Kandros touched her knee.  “We all can.  But me?  I’m on your side here.  You need anything, you come see me.  Even if it’s just to vent.”  He tipped his head back toward the Operations bridge.  “Even about them.  Or pathfinding things I will have no comprehension of.  Or the side panels on your ship that aren’t the color you like.  Bend my ear.  I’m open to anything after the last year on this station.”

That brought a smile back to her face and she laughed a little.  Good.  Ryder squeezed his hand, running her thumb over and over the softer skin between his foreclaw and talon.  It was distracting.  He should have put his gloves back on, but he had popped them off to get some typing done.

“Thanks, Kandros.  I see they’ve got you as Head of Militia and Morale.”  Ryder smiled up at him. “What’s your story?  How did you end up with the Initiative?”   

This was… nice.  Maybe it was because she was someone different.  A new face in over a year.  Or, a person that wasn’t looking at him for safety.  But it was nice to simply talk, joke a little.  While it did drag back to the Arks and the hard place the Initiative found itself in, it felt a little more normal to simply talk to someone.  He found himself hoping Ryder took him up on the offer to come back and vent.

He wasn’t sure if she was attractive by human standards:  he may gotten more of a handle of human expressions, but human beauty standards?  No clue.  But her eyes were very green, her olive skin was very clear, and her auburn hair was longer and tied back away from her face.  She was a small woman but muscular, with an obviously strong core and back from her posture.  If he compared Ryder to the last asari he had dated before the Initiative, ah.  Well.  

He didn’t understand human beauty standards, but he thought she was nice to look at by _his_ standards.  He hoped she would come back.

“I need to go.”  She eventually stood up.  “But, thank you.  Again.  This has all been a shock.  Between Dad, Scott, and all this,” and she waved her hand at the Nexus around them.  “This helped.”  

“Any time,” Kandros easily agreed, and tried not to sound too eager.  

“And, you ah.  You seem pretty great yourself.  And your voice, it’s really--” she stopped.  Then flushed.  “Um.”  The flush extended down the side of her neck, and Kandros became a little concerned.  “Shit, why did I say that outloud,” she muttered to herself.

“Ryder, are you--”

“I mean,” she started then stopped again.  “You’re, ah.  You’re a great...militia...guy…  And your voice is very, ah.  Soothing!  Yeah!”  She put a finger to her ear.  “What’s that SAM?  Oh, need me on the Ark?  Whoops, okay, gotta go!”  Ryder took off at a jog out of the militia office, turned the wrong way to go toward the tram, righted herself, and jogged even faster away.  All without making eye contact with Kandros again.

_Well.  That was...interesting._

He wondered what she meant to say that wasn’t “soothing”.  Something worth investigating further.


	3. Chapter 3

He thought about that interesting encounter with the Pathfinder through the rest of his shift while working through his backlog of messages and the new requests for science security details off station.  Suddenly, there was an Ark and a Pathfinder, and Science!! was interesting again.  (Every mention of Science!! was written the exact same way in every email from that one researcher that kept licking rocks and needing a medivac.  Kandros had concerns about that one.  That turian was staying on the station until he learned to keep strange, unknown rocks out of his mandibles.)  

He kept thinking about it as he chewed his way through his ration bar after his shift ended and his sergeant rotated back on. The human woman kept asking him to repeat himself that it was real, the Hyperion was really docked.

“It’s real, Park.”  He paused before clocking out.  “Do you have family onward?”

Stg. Park stood up sharply.  “Wha-- no.  No, sir.  No, no family.  Came here by myself.”  She paused.  Then added, “But I know some people in cyro.  ...Never thought I would see some of them again.”  She glanced at Kandros and frowned.  “Sorry.  Sir.”

“No need for that.  Means there is still hope for the rest of us.  Reports of disturbances on the pads.  Everyone’s a little riled up with the arrival of the Ark.  Let’s get our welcome faces on, but keep the peace.”  He nodded as he headed out.  “Morning, everyone.”

Back in his quarters, he stowed away his armor, stashed his extra guns and ammo, and squirreled away the three extra ration bars he had made off with on principle (never know when another Uprising might be around the corner; his own stock was gone).  He tapped out his claws on the floor in annoyance at himself.  He was thinking too hard about this.  He never did that.  

“Stop it,” he growled at himself.

It wasn’t hard to find contact info for the Pathfinder, not for head of security.  He started to type a message on his omnitool, then stopped.  Thought about it.  Then, hit record instead.

“Ryder.  Enjoyed talking to you earlier.  Meant what I said:  if you need anything, come and talk to me.  Even if it’s just to vent.”  He paused for just moment, “Or listen to my voice.  Kandros, out.”

_ There _ , he thought.   _ Encouragement sent. _

That...wasn’t too forward for humans, was it?  A turian would understand that as an offer of friendship and maybe some stress relief.  Or maybe it was too subtle.  Sometimes, he discovered, humans needed things spelled out to them very carefully.  Well, he would find out.  The Pathfinder could not avoid him on the Nexus forever.   

He fell backwards onto his bed, not even bothering to change out of his underarmor.  Instead of a day off, he got an Ark and a day and half long rotation.  Even though he was off the clock, and his staff was competent and adequate, he had a strong feeling he was going to get a call from Tann or Addison within hours to rotate back on to balance out a new argument about what to turn back on with the new power available.  Why bother changing?

But, there was an Ark on the Nexus.  If there was one Ark…

That thought helped him drift off to sleep for five hours before he was called back on shift.

 

***

 

It took two days before Ryder spoke to him again.  

The first day, as the hours ticked by and his shift in Operations wound down without a word or a glimpse of the pathfinder, he cursed himself.  He had been too forward.  He would have to find a way to apologize.  May be make it into some sort of cultural misunderstanding.  

He felt a prickling on the back of his neck, that blind sixth sense that served him well for years that let him know when he was being watched.  Very casually, Kandros turned slightly on his stool to stretch and look over his shoulder… and got a good look at Ryder trying to covertly watch him from behind a potted plant across the way.  Ryder realized she was made and tried to duck down behind a bench.  

A nearby asari stopped to check in on her.  “Pathfinder, are you all right?” the young engineer asked.

Ryder popped up.  She glanced back at Kandros, all red faced, then tried to laugh the whole thing off.  “Yup, perfectly fine!  Not watching where I’m going!  Gosh, so bright in here!  How are you doing?  What’s your name?  Nice to meet you!  I’m Sara Ryder--”

Kandros smothered a laugh and turned away.  Maybe he didn’t need to apologize, if he was being spied on like that.  Ryder seemed young, for a human (not that he was that old; twenty-six was not over the hill; his commanders would be appalled at him in charge at his age and rank).  She had been through a great deal in just a few days.  He had left out some bread crumbs:  if she was interested, she could come in.  He was here to help her as a friend (or, ah, other options) if she needed it.

Within an hour, he got a call from Kesh on to his private channel.  “Why is the Pathfinder scanning my electronics?”  She was not judging.  Yet.  It was more an idle curiosity.  

Kandros leaned out of his Security hub and looked up toward the Operations platform.  Indeed, there was there was Ryder, scanning one of the junction boxes (which was smoking; that was concerning) and talking to one of Kesh’s engineers.  

“Don’t know,” Kandros admitted.  “Want me to ask her to stop?”

“No,” Kesh said after a moment.  “Not at the moment.  But--”

“I’ve got my eye on it.”  And they disconnected.

Kandros watched the pair of them.  The engineer seemed to be encouraging the pathfinder to do the scans.  Between the two of them, they investigated another junction box on another level of Operations, made the smoking stop, then parted ways.  Ryder bound back up the platform back toward Tann’s office.  Kandros wondered to himself, and within a few moments, he got his answer.

Tann called his line directly.  “The Pathfinder is here in my office,” Tann whispered.  “Scanning things.”

“I am aware of what the Pathfinder is doing, yes.”

“But  _ why _ is she--”  Tann paused.  “Where did she go?”

Kandros looked up again to watch Ryder skip out of Tann’s office and up into Addison’s colonial operations area.  “I believe she is done with her scans in your office, Director.  No need to concern yourself further.”

“But  _ why _ \--” Kandros cut the communication off before he could get into further argument with Tann.  While a valid question, he didn’t have that answer yet.

He waited.  

Addison didn’t bother with a private channel.  “Why is Ryder scanning my people?” was her blunt question over the public comm at the Security station.

“She’s pathfinding.”

The almost deathly silence spoke volumes how Addison viewed his joke.  Kandros thought he was hilarious.

“I am aware of the Pathfinder’s actions.  Please give her your full cooperation,” he advised the director as he watched Ryder skip innocently by Security and onto the tram out of Operations none the wiser to the trouble she had just caused.  

Addison hung up on him in disgust.  Kandros had no idea what Ryder was doing nor what just happened, but it was probably the most amusing thing that had happened to him in months.

The next day, it took almost an hour for Ryder to show up.  She didn’t speak with him directly, but kept sulking about and talking to his underlings, trying to stay out of his line of sight.  It was fascinating.  He would catch a tip of her long, red ponytail peeking out from behind a monitor before she would duck out of sight again.  

Stg. Park eventually brought over a pad with a bemused expression for his review.  “The Pathfinder would like to review some security footage, if she may.  Here are the locations and dates.”

Kandros lifted a browplate, but flicked through the data with one claw.  Only a few short data bursts, very recent, all around the junction boxes and electronics she had been scanning yesterday.   _ Well, well. _

“Did she understand that I would have to personally approve this?”

Park looked amused.  “She seemed a little flustered at the idea.  Said she didn’t want to bother you personally, but that she understood.”

He glanced around Park.  Ryder was half hidden behind one of the security monitors, watching them.  He fluttered his mandibles in a smile.  

“I’ve got this.  At ease, sergeant.”  He made sure to dump both his gloves on his station before making his way over to the Pathfinder.  He found Ryder seated in a corner, trying to both hide behind a monitor and give him a defiant look.  He raised a browplate at her and tapped the pad against his foreclaw.  “Pathfinder,” he greeted her.

She scrunched up her nose at him.  There was a faint flush across her neck that disappeared into the neckline of her Initiative uniform.  “K--wait.  Should I call you Militia leader?  That seems weird.  Do you have a rank or anything?”

That did make him chuckle.  “The militia was created more out a sudden need, between the kett and the Uprising. So, it doesn’t fit in the original plan of the formal Initiative leadership structure with a rank and title.  And I have no rank outside of the Hierarchy.”  He offered her an open hand.  “Kandros is fine.”

“But you’re the head of security but not  _ The  _ Director,” she went on.  

That...that was a touchy subject.  But not the way she would think.  His last boss had not been the person he thought she was.  He wasn’t Sloane Kelly and had no want to replace her.  “No,” he answered as easily and professionally as he could.  

“But you call me Pathfinder?”  She made that sour expression again.  

“Out of respect.”

“That seems unfair.” Ryder focused over Kandros’ shoulder for a moment before focusing back his face.  It struck him again how very green her eyes were before Ryder nodded and told him firmly, “Right.  Then it’s only fair you should call me Ryder.”

“Pathfi--”  He started.  She looked both a little hurt and sad when he started to use her title.  Well.  He had been trying to encourage her.  He leaned his elbow on top of the monitor and leaned in slightly so they shared a bit more of the same space.  “Ryder,” he started again, rolling the ‘R’ as best he could on his own vocal cords.  He could see the blush that had started to dissipate creep right back up her collar and neck but didn’t tease her further.  

He offered the pad back to her with his free hand.  “I’m approving this.  I meant what I said about doing what I can to help.”  He tapped his omnitool without changing his casual pose as he slightly leaned over her to give his authorization.  “I only ask may I be informed what you are investigating, in the best interest of Nexus security.”

Ryder bit her lower lip and looked up at him through her eyelashes.  That was… an interesting image.  Right.  Well.  He was not thinking about that right now and filing that thought away to examine later.

She did a subtle glance around them and motioned him in closer.  They were being watched by several of his officers, but more for gossip then any actual crime the Pathfinder was investigating.  “You won’t like this,” she kept her voice low, “but some of the engineers asked me to look into some sabotage that started up fairly recently, and it came to a head when the Hyperion docked.”

Kandros leaned over her, shielding the monitor (and Ryder’s mouth for lip reading) from view from the main Operations area and any of the security cameras.  “You’re right.  I don’t like that.”

She pulled up the first file.  Nothing but static.  That was not good.  “It isn’t that they don’t trust you specifically.  I actually think you and Kesh, the pair they came to me, they trust to keep them alive.  It’s more…”

“Everyone else, they don’t trust.”  He sighed and felt a headache coming on.  More of this.  It was never going to end with more leftovers from the Uprising, little thefts and sabotages.  Hitting it with a stick would making it worse. More exiles would make it worse.  And now obviously corrupted security footage meant he had worse problems on his staff.  “You think it is a member of my security team,” he admitted quietly.  When he turned his head to look at her, she was watching him carefully.  He nodded.  “Show me what you have, Ryder.”

The next vid was corrupted as well, nothing was static.  The last two were a mess of electromagnetic data, but more than previous files.  

“SAM?” Ryder asked quietly.  “Think you can do something with this?”

“A moment, Pathfinder,” her omnitool lit up and intoned quietly for them both.  “I believe I have enough data between the biometric scans we took of personal yesterday and even these corrupt data files to narrow it down to a single individual, a human security officer recently assigned to Hyperion.”

“You can share what we found with Kandros, SAM,” Ryder offered.

His own omnitool lit up, and Kandros flipped through Ryder’s quick investigation of one of his own:  how Dale had set up two engineers to suspect each other, blown multiple electronic stations and caused fires, burning on engineer.  One fire had been hydroponics the week before, what they thought had been the fault of an overactive oxygen tank.

He knew this person:  he had been on missions with him.  He could have killed people.  

And he had missed it, dealing instead of bureaucratic nonsense on top of trying to ration out food and balance personalities.

Kandros focused on Ryder.  He pulled his pistol from his hip holster, yanked the carriage and flipped it for cyro ammo to spare any delicate parts on the Nexus if he needed to pull his weapon.  “Well,” he told her as he holstered his weapon again and very aware several of his officers were watching them closely, “care to formally introduce me to your captain on the Hyperion?”

**Author's Note:**

> Any typos you find are totally mine, beg your pardon! I'm also over on tumblr @ wickedbamf.


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